Things you are Bitterly Sick Of (Besides my Blog)

I’m sure some people are going to claim they had a good holiday and they got everything they wanted and did everything they wanted and got along so well with their families or had some good time away. But as you know, being bitter is about thinking about things in a whole different way than the normal optimist. So, I imagine that there was something you didn’t get, or just one or two family members you didn’t get along with or the fire was turned up to high and you had to take off your ugly Christmas sweater or like me you got a little sick…sick of food, sick of relatives, sick of Christmas lights or decorations, or cleaning up stuff. If you seriously don’t have anything to be bitter about, I’m always bitter to offer new suggestions. Here is yet another reason for you to bitter. Here’s a TBBBPS# (Turn Back Bitter Blog Post Day):

Bitter Anticipation

Look out! Vacation is coming!

It is days like this, the day after a vacation, holiday or break when I don’t feel like working, moving or even breathing, or days like this that feel like a combination of the listlessness of Monday, the overwhelmingness of Tuesday, and the desperation of Thursday, that I realize why I am such a bitter time off anticipator. Call me crazy, but when it comes to vacations, holidays or any time off, I have the bitter curse. Whenever I get closer to a vacation, I start looking with bitter apprehension to its end.

When you think of Hawaii, you see this. I see, “So why are you so pale after a week in Hawaii?”

For instance, we had been planning a vacation to Hawaii for a year and a half (and by planning, I mean my wife was setting up hotels, getting airline tickets and getting rental cars. I did my part by requesting time off at work). For a year and a half, I could have miserable, bitter days. I could get kicked and punched in the metaphorical face, over and over and again. I would just stand up, over and over again, against the metaphorical bully because I knew, no matter how far away it was, somewhere on the horizon, there was a Hawaiian island that was calling my name. It would say, “Get punched and kicked metaphorically over and over again, because you will visit me.” So for that year and half I took it. Then, my bitter self sabotage started kicking in. I started thinking about the vacation. Man, that is going to be a long flight. Oh, man, I’m going to have to pack stuff. Oh man, is our babysitter going to take their job literally and sit on our kids? What about all the Hawaiian laws? I don’t know if I have them down yet. Could I be breaking a law by wearing swim trunks that don’t have Hawaiian flowers, or shirts that don’t say Surf’s up? How many hours late am I supposed to be for a function? I don’t want to show up too early for being lazy…Which island are we going to again? It’s not the Alaskan one right?

Those were just the questions I had about the vacation. Then I started have pre vacation anxiety. Oh man, I’m going to have to be back at work in a week. I’m going to have to answer all kinds of questions when I get back.

“So how was your vacation?” (It was good, until I had to come back and talk to you) “It was fun.”

“What did you do?” (Laid around did nothing, until the end of the vacation, where we made a mad dash to do something fun so I could tell you we did something fun.) “We went on this boat snorkeling. It was fun.” (Don’t ask for details, I don’t want to talk to you.)

“Why are you still super pale after spending a week in Hawaii?” (Because I laid around all day, like I could have at home. I only went outside when it was too late. Plus there is this new thing called SPF 100 that takes all the fun out of sunburns.) “I just used SPF 50 and it worked!”

“So are you just so relaxed right now?” (I just got back from a tropical paradise where I was lazy all day and had a horrendous 5 hour flight that made me go back in time two hours, and made my sleep schedule go off and now I am at work, talking to you about vacation when I really should be catching up on the hours of work you didn’t do for me. Yeah, totally relaxed.) “Yeah, I’m totally relaxed.”

This Christmas was like that. A holiday where society starts celebrating in the middle of September, gets kicked into high gear the day after Halloween and “officially starts” the minute after you finish your last gobble of turkey, all so I could get off of work an hour early on Christmas Eve, take the kids to a “light display”, in the cold air, run home, get my kids off the Extra Strength Christmas Crack Caffeine they must have smuggled into their dinner drinks, get all our presents under the tree and finish off a few minutes of Xbox before passing out into a coma of weariness. Only to get woken up at 7 am, because my oldest had been patiently waiting since 5:30 am to Get these things opened!

The anticipation is killing me! I can’t wait to open all these gifts and be littered with wrapping paper! Being the family genius of electronics, I can’t wait to set up every cord, and update every electronic and set up every Itune, and put batteries in every new device! I can’t wait to be interrupted during every nap, by cries of “Dad, the thing isn’t working!” or “Dad, look at this new thing that seems exciting but will never be used again!” and I can’t wait for the “Dad, I spilled this thing on that thing and I need help getting that thing off of that thing!” but the thing I can’t for the most?

The kids were great about cleaning up after themselves.

“So how was your Christmas?” (See above.) “It was fun.”

“So what did you get?” (A mid weak break that was more work than it was a holiday.) “I got some new headphones.” (That I bought myself.)

“So nice relaxing, uh day off?” “Yeah, pretty much.”

For those of you that are back to work, welcome back to the misery. For those of us still on vacation, I hope you are enjoying your quiet time away from your families.

I will apologize in advance. And, you’ll be glad to know, very little (possibly NONE of this will sneak into MY BLOG) and will remain here, unless you sometimes use the “pending moderation” knife which I would, in this case, but let’s see.

I announced something in my last post which no-one I work with is supposed to know but one work-mate must’ve been really bored at work and read it and called me up (and emailed) to talk about, all the more reason to tell anyone “here” the reason why I ran into my son’s pick-up truck three (or 4?) times Sunday a.m. Dec. 27 was that I was still STOAND from the night before. Seriously: I’ve told no-one in my family this and hopefully they won’t read it here. I didn’t know I was bumping into his truck with my wife’s truck until the LAST TIME when, while backing up, my foot spasmd out and stomped on the accelerator. I felt that one. My son wasn’t especially urinated – he thought it was kind of funny, just a dent in the front bumper — especially since, a week later, someone really ran into him at a stop-light sliding on the ice. Bigger dent in the rear bumper, that one.

And we decided to join our other kids (whose cars I don’t think I have ever run into) in Sayulita Mexico and I am less and less excited about going, for some of the same (and some different) reasons you weren’t excited about Hawaii. My grand-kids left our house (with their parents) recently and they continue to show steady progress as acolytes (beyond mere apprentices) to Satan. So, I’m not especially anticipating being surprised when I re-yoo-(ig)-nite with them THREE WEAKS FRUM TODAY. And I don’t know if I’ve rented a car or not. The online receipt says “$20” and we all know that can’t be right. It’s sad when there is a palpable sense (and smell) of DOOM before something like this.
Axually, the sense of DOOM, in varying quantities, is a constant in my life. Only when I don’t feel it, then I really start to worry.

I bought my wife a small drone for our anniversary and one cat liked it so much that it dragged it out of the box and left it downstairs in the hallway in the dark and when we came home my wife stepped on it, smushing it pretty good – and tho’ she felt bad we know that this is the cat’s fault.

Uh-oh: I just noticed my pixure amongst the other bitterlings. Uh … thanx? Or, replace it with someone for whom THERE IS (even the slightest thread of) HOPE !

WHAT?! duzzn’t change? Change duzzn’t, it sorta stays the same, but it’s like one of those mechanical bucking bull rides, it’s heck hanging on and usually you bump your head and other body parts pretty good when ya’ falllllawph ~

that must be some weird kind of pizza, that yer laying/lying awn, along with the couch. however, laziness too, is also pretty (not ‘beautiful’ but “a lot”) wide. diverse. dante’s layers. there’s the couch-lying when roots grow out of your back and butt into it; there’s the couch-smegmafication during which YOU BECOME ONE (or a # close to “1”) WITH THE COUCH; i’ve had (on xxxxtreemleee rare ohcasio(ba)nality) a couple times when i bend the spoon with the couch; but quite often there just isn’t any spoon.

You are so good and disciplined and socially acceptable. How do you filter your thoughts?! I usually just say all of the things that you put in parenthesis. Out loud. Mostly so people will stop talking to me. Okay, so I CAN filter, but I choose not to, because the fastest way to get people to leave me alone is to actually say what I’m thinking 😉

my notification box does not , hasn’t work ed
f or
many days & on & off months….someone told me yesterday to type wordpress.com/notifications..i’m sorry also i am really upset and i don’t feel like talking. i wrote 2500 words why for 3.5 years part I ..i wrote it at raechel, for a reason ….

Sounds like you need to update your browser(I assume you are on Internet Explorer?). I have an old browser too and the notifications don’t show up anymore, so I got Firefox or Google Chrome and they work on those. On my old browser nothing is working anymore so I just move around a little.

Bitter Ben…hope you had a bitterly good hols! LOL!
Thanks for your Bitter Blogs and giving me good bitter laughs. Have a great or should I say bitterly great 2015 and keep the bitters coming. Much appreciate your visits always to my blog 😀

Don’t hate, but I’m in the middle of two weeks off. Unfortunately, my vacations are dictated by my employer and it is already written that I shall not have this glorious time off next year. I am experiencing anticipatory bitterness about that as well as about returning to the well-named grind next Monday. But, yeah, fun holiday, relaxing two weeks off (you know what goes in the parentheses).

I’m sorry but I have to be bitter about you getting two weeks off. The only condolence is that all kinds of people are going to be bitter like me on Monday when everyone else has to go back to work/school!

Console yourself by thinking how much more bitter I will be on Monday than you lucky schlubs who have been nose to the grindstone all this time. I can also be bitter about the fact that I have accomplished nothing on my two weeks off. Does it make you more or less bitter to realize you are not the most bitter one of all? And do you have a magic mirror that tells you your status in that regard?

Well, just to show I am not as nice a person as I pretend to be, I will add to your bitterness by telling you that my first day back at work was actually fairly enjoyable. I don’t mind being back a bit. Wait a minute, I believe you enjoy your bitterness and perhaps in your perverse way feel somewhat happier to have more meat for your discontent. Argh! And now I am bitter for taking all this time to write such a long comment when I have a blog post and a magazine article to work on. Hope you’re happy, laughing boy!

You got your wish! I’m bitter about the ridiculous blog post I just wrote. Yes, I’m sorry to be back at work, twelve weeks before the next three day weekend (yes, I counted), Seven months before vacation. And I have a headache.

As a leading expert on bitterness, I’ve been predicting things like this for years. I know Tuesday is always worse than Monday, February and March are busy for almost everyone and I know all the bitterest days of the year. If you check out my post today, you will see I predicted it.

How did our long, bitter string from last year end up on this post? Although it was enjoyable to read through again; we are both very good writers. I am indeed bitter to not have two weeks off this year. In 2016, I will have the week after Christmas off. I can’t be bitter about January 2017 yet, but only because that would be too much like getting things done ahead of time.

I’m not bitter but I was told that I phoned in Christmas this year. I didn’t go to any malls or stores other than the grocery, I didn’t put up all of the decorations, I didn’t listen to any holiday music, I didn’t send out any Christmas cards, I pretty much lived this month like it was any other month – which apparently it is a cardinal sin to not make merry and get with the spirit.